Don't Be Afraid of the Dark
by Acacia Eastbramble
Summary: Summit, WV: 40 years after the outbreak, in a compound called The District, a group of survivors notice a change in the virals they've fought against. As the survivors from The Time Before fight against the change offered by a new generation, a dark tide is gathering that could wipe them out. A young woman with viral eyes stands as the only hope for this rag-tag group of survivors.
1. Chapter 1

**I hope you enjoy this. The idea has been bouncing around in my head for awhile and I finally bounced it onto some paper. It's a little rough, but very enjoyable to write. Updates may be slow because it's hard to stand up to Cronin's writing style. I don't even know if people really read Passage fanfiction anyway. But here it is nonetheless.**

* * *

**Ellie**

_Chapter 3_

_ "Don't be afraid of the dark."_

_ That's the only thing I remember hearing my mother say. I was eight when the virals came._

_ I hardly remember my father except that my mother always told me he was away at work and that he was gone a lot for the year and half or so before the outbreak. _

_ Now I know what really happened._

_ Virals always go home._

_ One night there was a crash in our living room and my mother told me to go up the attic and hide in the trunk. _

_The trunk was an old metal traveling case that my father used to use when he would take experiments to conferences and on business trips. When my mother heard about the outbreak of virals she took me up to the attic and stripped all of the casing out of it and put in some padding, cans of food and astronaut food we bought at the store. And a .22 revolver. She told me that when she said to go to the attic, I was to go straight up, close the hatch behind me and crawl into the trunk and shut it and not make any noise._

_That's exactly what I did. _

_I heard gun shots and screams and horrible clicking and growling noises and then there was a ripping sound and I could hear the viral moving around near my trunk. I tried not to make any noise, just like my mother said, but it was hard because it was dark and there was a monster. I felt the trunk lifted into the air and then thrown across the attic, it smashed into the wall and cracked open. The last thing I remember from that night is looking into the strangely orange eyes of a viral and then blacking out._

_I woke the next day, strangely unharmed._

_I was still in my trunk, like I had been when I blacked out the night before, but all of the food that had been in it had been ripped apart and thrown around the attic. The attic was mostly intact except for the large hole where the hatch had been. It looked like the viral hadn't been able to get its hands to work on the cord so it simply burst through the ceiling instead. There was a large hole in the window where the viral must have smashed his way out to find shelter from the approaching sunlight._

_I realize now that, that was the most scared I've ever been. I had to jump from the attic down the rest of the first floor. Pieces of ceiling plaster crunched under my feet as I walked toward the living room, clutching the revolver my mother had put in the trunk with me. There was blood on the floor near the chest where my mother kept the shotgun and it wasn't open. That scared me. My mother hadn't even had a chance to try to defend herself._

_I went into the kitchen and climbed onto the counter so that I could reach the cabinets. I pulled out the cereal and a bowl then climbed down off the counter and got the milk out of the fridge. I fixed myself some breakfast, ate and then put the cereal bag and some of the can foods into my school backpack._

_I walked into my room and changed out of my pajamas and put them in my bag along with a couple extra pairs of underwear like my mother always did when I went to a sleep over. I hoisted my backpack onto my back and walked out the front door. That was the last time I ever saw my home. I walked toward the direction of my school and never looked back. It was only when a soldier directed me toward a group of survivors getting ready for the train that I broke down. My third grade teacher was there with a big group of kids from my class. Most of the kids were crying so it was really hard for me to stay strong, so I didn't. My teacher rubbed my back and told me everything was going to be okay. _

_The soldiers took the food out of my backpack and the gun out of my hand and asked where my mother was. I told them that I didn't know. I told them about the crash and hiding in the trunk and staring into the viral's eyes and then waking up with my mother gone. They looked scared then. They made me go sit in a janitor's closet. I know now that they were afraid I had been infected by the viral, but I wasn't. Eventually they let me out. From that day on the world had changed._

_Chapter 4_

The bell rang and I shut the old leather-bound book. It had been my mother's. She was killed two weeks ago when a viral breached the wall at her post. My mother was tough as nails. She'd been able to shoot since she was eight after all and it was just a simple fluke that her rifle jammed when it did.

I didn't like to use the rifles for that very reason. My father was taken when I was thirteen. He was the one who taught me how to use one of the crossbow-like weapons that I prefer. He always called it a balest, but no one else had ever heard of it before. He made it out of a broken crossbow and some old scrap metal he found. They're almost like over powered slingshots. One thing about balests that makes them so effective is that you can retrieve your ammo. A couple weeks ago I shot a viral that was climbing up the wall; it was the third in the last month to try the walls. I used the same balest bolt to shoot one last night.

They like my post. I'm always at this post. It is mine. I shot the viral that killed my mother from this very spot. I retrieved the bolt from it and it was purged by the flames that burned her body.

"You know you aren't supposed to have that up here," Wesley said as he walked over to the ladder behind me. Every other post had a ladder, Wesley's didn't.

"It was a quiet night," I replied with a shrug as I put the journal back in my satchel. "You gonna tell on me, Wes?"

"Do I ever tell on you, Ellie?" Wesley joked as he motioned for me to follow him down the ladder, his floppy, light brown hair falling in front of his muddy river colored eyes.

I shook my head then nodded out toward the tree line. "Brother's been sticking close lately and I want to make sure he leaves before they let the cattle out, if not I'll call the Burns."

Wesley pulled a face but then nodded and started to climb down the ladder. Wesley didn't like the Burns. It's their job to clear out any virals that were still in the fields. Burns are the toughest people in the District. Riggs is one of the Burns. He used to be a Shoot like Wes and me, but the Burns picked him out after he survived being knocked off the wall by a viral and still managed to kill the bastard with his shiv. He spent thirty days in quarantine with two cracked ribs and a broken leg. He has four scars running down the right side of his face and down the back of his neck where the viral slashed him; that's why he was in quarantine. As soon as they cleared him again, the Burns snatched him up and turned him in to one of them.

That hurt Lyra a lot. Lyra is one of the cattle runners and I know that it kills her every time someone calls the Burns out. I've never been a big fan of Lyra, but I do pity her having a husband in the Burns. A lot of Burns didn't last very long. Each team of Burns was responsible for an area and Riggs is part of the team that responds to my post. And my post is popular.

Brother likes to hang around my post and Brother is a very gifted killer. He never runs the wall when I'm at my post, but he's taken down at least ten Burns since he showed up. A lot of the time he makes a lunge at them and then disappears. It depends on who's there.

Brother turned up a little after I started the wall four years ago. The joke went around the rest of the Shoots that he could be my brother, looking for mercy. I was seventeen and I was offended at first. I told my mother about it and she laughed, telling me that it was just a joke. From that point on I called him Brother and the name stuck.

Brother is big, bigger than the other virals and smart. He didn't rush my mother's post. He only rushed my post, but only after my shift was up. And sometimes, early in the morning, I swear I hear him talking to me. Sometimes when I'm not on shift. Sometimes when I've had a little too much. Sometimes when I haven't gotten enough sleep. Never when I'm in my right mind.

_Stella_, he whispers to me, _Stella, come to me. The wall, Stella. The wall lies between us, my Stella. Stella. Stella. Stella. My Stella. My Only. My Stella. My Queen. Stella. Stella. Stella._

I looked out over the edge of the wall and saw Brother watching me. Dawn was just starting to break over the horizon and the rest of the virals had retreated to wherever it was theywent to, but not Brother. Brother sat on his haunches under a large pine tree a couple hundred yards out. The cattle gate was under the post to the right and any minute the second bell would ring and those gates would open and six people would come out with thirty head of cattle. And Brother would be waiting.

He was waiting. Of course, he was waiting. I jumped to my feet but he was already moving. He was slinking toward the gate, along the tree line. The second bell was suddenly tolling and I was trying to scream over it. They couldn't hear me. The Burns from my post- Riggs and his boys- had seen me and were sprinting for the gate. The bell was too loud and the Burns at the gate post couldn't hear us. The gates were opening and the cattle were coming out. Lyra and Sierra were the first out along with the cattle. I looked down and saw Riggs sprinting along the line of the wall at its base, just as I was along the top. I looked back toward the post over the gate and saw that Jeremy had already left for the morning. He had remembered to untie the tug though. I loaded my balest then reached for one of the flash grenades all the Shoots kept on their belts.

Brother was moving toward the herd pouring out of the gates to graze. I reached the post and hooked the tug to my belt before jumping over the edge of the wall, counting on its counter balance to catch me before I hit the rocks below, I unclipped the tug just before I hit the ground. I threw the flash grenade between Brother and the herd then shouldered my balest and took aim. I closed my eyes and traced his movement with my mind before the flash went off. I opened my eyes and fired.

He'd been right where I thought, but angled wrong and I had clipped his chest. He had been heading for Sierra, not Lyra or the closer cows, like I'd thought. He let out an inhuman roar and swiped out with his hand, slashing into Sierra and her horse and knocking her to the ground. He wasn't going to stop. I grabbed another flash grenade off my belt and threw it at him.

If I could just distract him for a second more.

I loaded my balest again and shouldered it. "Brother!"

Brother turned, his bloody claws still hovering above Sierra, and clicked at me, recognition flitting through his eyes.

_Stella._

The grenade went off with a mighty bang and a flash of light so bright it blinded me to what happened next.

I shot the bolt and I heard Brother scream again, another joined him. My vision cleared just in time to see Sierra flip. It was the fastest I've ever seen a person go. That first slash must have been the one to do it.

I blinked the last of the stars out of my eyes in time to see Brother leaping at me. There was a thunderous bang and Brother was knocked off his path, giving me time to roll to the side and regain my feet. I looked up and saw Riggs standing ten feet away, Lyra cowering behind him. I ran toward them, loading my balest as I went.

"Ellie! Down!" Riggs called and I looked up in time to see the terror cross his scarred face before something hit me in the back.

I hit the ground, my balest flying to the side. I grabbed my last flash grenade and flipped over as fast as I could, coming face to face with Brother. He leaned over me; his inhumanly flat face less than a foot from mine. I would have to be fast. I looked him in the eye and it seemed to startle him. He stared at me and I could feel his breathing.

_Stella. Stella. Stella. My Stella._

_My Stella._

I shoved the armed flash grenade into his gaping mouth just before it went off. There was a thunderous clap as the grenade went off and I was blinded. Brother screamed and ichor dripped onto my cheek, neck and chest. I felt his claws on my chest, a great weight on me, I was suffocating. I tried to scream but no sound left my mouth. I knew my eyes were open because my world was white, but I could see nothing. My world was empty except for a man. He was standing in front of me. He was probably in his mid-thirties, he had five o'clock, dishwater blonde hair and lightly rimmed glasses. He was wearing a white lab coat with a nametag on it that read Liam Fairley. He was looking down, muttering something. He looked up and I could suddenly hear him.

"My Stella," he whispered as he reached toward me and then his face began to twist and distort, flattening and losing its humanity.

A shot rang out and the man was gone.

"Ellie," someone whispered but I couldn't tell who. "Ellie."

I groaned and opened my eyes, still I saw nothing.

"I'm blind," I said as deadpan as I could manage, because of how afraid I was that it was true.

There was a chuckle from somewhere to the side of me. "Not permanently."

It was Riggs. That meant—"Ellie, we were so worried."

I sighed, Lyra was here too. "Eh, I'm fine."

"You've got guts, Elle," Riggs said and it was then that I realized how far away they both sounded.

I must have pulled a face because he chuckled again. "Quarantine?"

"Yes, ma'am," Riggs said, "You had shit all over you, Ellie. His face was half off by the time any of us did anything."

"It didn't kill him," I said and I could feel that I was right.

"No," he replied with a sigh, "Wesley got him with his rifle and he bolted."

I quirked an eyebrow, Wesley doesn't miss. I didn't understand how Brother was still alive. "He missed?"

"He was at weird angle. I swear that Brother of yours is one smart son-of-a-bitch. He could have killed you, Ellie, but he didn't. He just sat there and stared at you," Riggs said and he sounded disturbed.

I thought for a moment. I could trust Riggs. I had always trusted Riggs, ever since we were kids. But Lyra…

"Riggs…" I trailed off, not sure how to ask.

"Lyra," Riggs started, "Have you checked up on Sierra's girls yet?"

I heard a chair scraping against the floor before the door opened and closed. Riggs sighed.

"Did Sierra..?"

"We got her, Ellie."

"I couldn't stop him."

"You did your best."

"I saw him, Riggs," I said and sucked in a deep breath.

"Saw who?"

"Brother," I replied.

"We all saw him, Ellie, what are you talking about?" Riggs asked, sounding a little put off.

"No, just after the grenade went off I saw him. I saw who he used to be," I said in a rush, afraid he wouldn't believe me.

"You were probably already gone. There's no way you could know who he was," Riggs argued.

"No, Riggs, it was him. I'm sure," I demanded as I sat up and blinked, trying to get the whiteness out of my eyes.

"How can you be sure?" Riggs pressed.

"Because I heard him. He told me!" I yelled and the silence that fell was deafening.

I could hear Riggs breathing.

"You're already in quarantine, Ellie. If you say things like that, they won't let you out. You were probably just hearing things. Tell me you were just hearing things."

He believed me. I could tell Riggs believed me and it scared him. It scared me too. I had seen Brother, heard him, what did that make me?

"You're right. I was probably just gone by then," I said as I leaned back against the old mattress.

"It was pretty traumatic."

"How long am I in for?" I asked as I closed my eyes and the white turned to black.

"Not long, once they hosed you off we could see there weren't any puncture wounds. As far as we can tell, he didn't want you dead, Ellie, and no one can figure out why," Riggs said and I could hear the concern in his voice.

I smiled in the direction of his voice. "How long is 'not long'?"

"Unless you start showing symptoms, probably late tomorrow or the next morning."

"Good."

"Good?" Riggs asked with a chuckle, "Why? You got plans?"

"Yes, sir," I replied with a nod toward him. "I've got to take down Brother before he can fully recover."

"Don't be ridiculous, Ellie, even after they let you out of here your vision probably won't be at full capacity for another week or two," he said, his voice bordering on scolding.

"I can shoot with my eyes closed, you know that. And anyway, I know Brother like the back of my hand. I know how he moves. I know his patterns. I could get him right now if I saw him," I argued.

"That's the problem. You can't see anything," Riggs said and I heard the sound of his chair scraping across the cement floor.

"You're leaving?" I asked and I was ashamed at how upset I sounded.

"I have to go man the wall," he said and I knew it for the evasion it was.

"Why're you going up the wall?"

"Someone has to do your job," Riggs said and I heard the door open and close, his footsteps echoed down the corridor after him.

* * *

**Wesley**

I should have visited sooner. I should have visited before Riggs got the chance.

I walked down the narrow slanted hallway that lead down into the quarantine bunker and marveled at the engineering of it. The hallway was barely a foot and a half wide and six feet tall and made entirely of reinforced cement. A viral would have a hell of a time getting down the corridor and maintaining any sort of inhuman speed. Their broad shoulders usually spanned more like two or two and a half feet. Or three in Brother's case. And they might dent the cement but they couldn't break it on account of the whole thing being more or less a cement covered steel cage.

And that was just the hallway.

The quarantine chambers themselves were even more impressive. They had the same basic structure of the hallway only on a larger scale. The rooms were basically jail cells. They were usually seven feet tall and ten feet deep and hardly six feet wide. And each one individually wrapped up in a steel cage. The doors to each of them were reinforced steel with hinges that were designed specifically to keep virals in. The hinges would lock down if they were pushed on from the inside of the cell. And each cell had a small window with a small steel cover over it. And all of the rooms could be made air tight. It took too long to suffocate a viral. It made everyone in the District nervous when someone flipped in quarantine so it was always just best to finish them as quickly as possible. The usual practice is to seal the door and reinforce it, shoot through the window with a shot gun, seal the window shut and then flood the chamber and wait 'til the poor bastard drowns.

I stopped in front of the window for Ellie's cell and listened, trying to gage whether she was awake or not.

"Ellie?" I asked tentatively.

"Wes?" she replied and I heard movement.

"Hey, sorry I couldn't get in sooner," I said as I sat down in front of the window. I slid it open and looked in.

Ellie was leaning back against the old mattress in the room, facing the window, eyes open, but still wide and milky and unseeing. It made her usually moss green eyes look muddy and sick; they were flecked with a strange brown-gold.

"Don't worry about it," Ellie said as she waved her hand in my direction, the motion seemed loose and unfocused. "How're you feeling, Wes?"

I frowned. "I'm feeling just fine. You're the one who got tackled by a viral, how are you feeling?"

"Restless," she answered and I laughed because I knew she was telling the truth. "When are they letting me out?"

"You only have about eight more hours. Hang in there," I said and I saw her pout a little.

"Remind me that I owe you a drink when I get out," she said, closing her eyes again.

"A drink? Really?"

"Least I can do for the guy that saved my life."

I paused. "He wasn't going to kill you, Ellie. Anyone could see that."

It was one of the main reasons she was in here actually. The council was worried that Brother might have some kind of mind control over her. And I couldn't help but agree. She is unusually attached to Brother. I don't mean she cares for him, but he has become almost a distraction to her. She's become obsessed with him. Over the last couple weeks she's gotten more and more distant. Not just with me, but with everyone. She takes double shifts on the wall on some nights. And on the nights when she doesn't take double shifts, she's nowhere to be found. She eats alone. She sleeps alone.

"I think he knows me, Wes," she said, interrupting my thoughts.

"He's an animal, Ellie. He may be smarter than the others, but he isn't that smart," I replied, a little put out with her.

"I think he was that smart," she said, unperturbed by my tone.

"Was?"

"When he was human. I think he was really smart before," Ellie said. She sounded far away and I was worried.

"How do you know?" I asked, sighing back into my seat; preparing for what was sure to be a long conversation about one of my least favorite topics.

"I saw him."

"We all saw him, Ellie." Another sigh.

"No," she said, "I saw a man while I was on the ground, just before I passed out. He was tall; he had sandy hair and glasses. He was wearing a lab coat."

I balked at her. I was glad that she couldn't see me. "What do you mean you 'saw' him?"

"The world was white because of the flash grenade and that's when I saw him. He was standing right in front of me," Ellie replied, opening her eyes and looking through him at the image in her mind.

"You shouldn't say that, Ellie."

She scoffed. "What is with you two? I'm not mind controlled."

So she'd told Riggs too. He and Lyra were the only other people who had been to see her, and Ellie sure-as-hell didn't tell Lyra.

"Okay, okay, not mind-controlled, but still, how do you know it was him?" I said, letting her go. She was the Ellie I've always known. There was nothing different about her that I could tell.

"He talked to me," Ellie said and it was quieter.

"When you saw him?" I asked, alarmed, but trying hard not to show it.

"And before," she said, still quiet.

"How long?"

"A couple of years. Since I started the wall I guess. More often since my mother died," Ellie replied, her voice little more than a whisper.

"You never told me," I said, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. I could tell by the look on her face that I didn't succeed.

"I couldn't tell you, Wes. Would you have believed me?" she said, pleading.

"Maybe I would have," I replied defensively.

"You would have thought I was crazy."

"I would not."

"You would have."

"But Riggs wouldn't, huh?"

That was the wrong thing to say.

"I didn't tell Riggs until yesterday and he thought I was wrong."

Well, that wasn't what I expected.

"He told me I had already passed out," Ellie said, and the sadness in her voice nearly killed me.

"Ellie—" the midday bell began to toll. I sighed. "I'll come get you when they let you out, okay?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "Thanks."

* * *

**I hope you enjoyed. Please review and let me know what you think.**


	2. Chapter 2

**So here is chapter two. So, it looks like this story has had a few hits/visitors and I don't know whether this story just isn't your cup of tea or you just aren't the reviewing type, but some feedback would be stupendous. Also, I have a layout for the District if anyone wants it. I can PM it to you or something. Also, other characters will be in this story. Characters from **_**The Passage**_** and **_**The Twelve**_**. They won't be for a little while though yet. These are just the establishing moves for this story. Please enjoy!**

* * *

**Ellie**

I opened my eyes and blinked for what felt like the millionth time. Shadows had formed in my vision that I have now decided are my surroundings. The dark colored blob I'm sitting on is the mattress. The slightly darker colored blob against the wall is the door. Yep. That's pretty much my surroundings. It was also pretty dark in quarantine. This was the first time I've been down here on this side of the door. The last time I came down was when Riggs fell off the wall. I sat down here whenever I wasn't on the wall. I started bringing my lunch down from the mess. Lyra didn't like it. I didn't like Lyra.

There were footsteps in the hallway that leads down to quarantine. It sounded like a lot of people. Probably the council.

"Elisabeth Davenport," a powerful voice boomed, echoing off of the cement walls.

Yep. The council. "Yes, Dr. McCreary."

"We've come to evaluate your condition," he said and I blinked more shadows out of my eyes. I could see his baggy, tanned skin now, though the wrinkles were remembered more than actually seen. "Do you remember what happened on the morning before today?"

"Up until I passed out, yes," I replied, trying my best not to be sarcastic.

"Perhaps you could tell us," he pressed.

"I was about to leave the wall for the morning when I noticed that Brother was still lurking along the tree line. I realized he was waiting for us to open the cattle gate so I tried to warn the Burns and the Runners, but no one could hear me because the second bell was tolling so I ran down the wall until I got to the tug above the gate and I took that down. By the time I got to the ground, the cattle and Lyra and Sierra were already out of the gate. I threw a flash grenade at Brother and shot at him, but I missed because he was going for Sierra and not Lyra, like I thought he was. He slashed Sierra across the chest and I threw another flash grenade at him and yelled at him until he looked at me, then I shot him and the grenade went off. The next thing I saw, Sierra was flipping and Brother was coming at me. Riggs shot him out of the air and I tried to get to him and Lyra but Brother jumped on me. I looked him straight in the eyes and I think it confused him, then I shoved the grenade in his mouth and it went off and I couldn't see anything. I remember him screaming before someone—Wesley, I think—jumped in and shot him and scared him off. I don't know what happened with Sierra except that Riggs said they got her."

"That's all?" Dr. McCreary asked, sounding expectant.

"Yeah, that's all," I said, trying not to sound impatient. They were holding up my release with these stupid questions.

"I was told something about a man that you saw," he said, sounding disappointed.

Who the hell told him about that? "I saw a man when I passed out. It wasn't anything exciting. Just a man in a lab coat and then I passed out."

"I guess you check out then, Ms. Davenport. Three others have reported that you appear to be yourself as well," McCreary said and he sounded regretful.

"Thanks," I said half-heartedly as I heard the key to the door turn in the lock.

I stood and walked over as they opened it. I could hardly tell who was who because it was dark and my vision still wasn't at its best. It was probably half of the council. All of them were old, from The Time Before, and cynical.

I walked out into the hallway and up toward the light filtering through the window of the steel door at the end. My world was still blurred and I wasn't fond of it. I hoped that coming out into the light would help. I swung the door open and was further blinded by the light, even waning as it was in the early evening. I held my hand up and shielded my eyes. The world was white again though it was adjusting. I took a couple more steps into the light and nearly stumbled over the uneven ground.

"Ellie," Wesley called from somewhere to my left.

"Hey, Wes," I said, turning to where I thought he was.

"Ms. Davenport," McCreary said from the doorway of the quarantine building.

"Yes, sir?"

"How is your vision doing?" he asked, sounding smug.

"Just fine,"

"Are you going to be alright to shoot tomorrow night?"

"Yes, sir."

I guess McCreary must have nodded because the next thing I knew, Wesley had grabbed my hand and squeezed a little.

"Thank you, sir," he said and tugged on my hand.

"Look after her, Mr. Lamont," McCreary called after us as Wesley dragged me off.

"I will, sir," Wesley called.

I let him drag me along until we got a ways off. I couldn't tell exactly where we were because it was so bright out. He let go of my hand and we stopped.

"Why did you say you could shoot tomorrow? You can't even see me, let alone shoot a viral," he scolded.

"I could. I will," I said, frowning at him.

Wesley sighed, giving in. Good. "If you're going to be up on the wall tomorrow night, we need to get your vision fixed. You've got to rest your eyes."

"I've been resting my eyes since yesterday," I whined.

"Well clearly they need to rest longer. Come on, let's go find Marcus and get you something to cover your eyes," Wesley said as he took my hand again and lead me through the District.

I tripped a few times and nearly bumped into people several times, but Wesley was always there to guide me through. Marcus's warehouse—fore it was more his than anyone else's— was on the other side of the compound from the Quarantine facility and he would surely have something that I could cover my eyes with.

Most people we passed either didn't notice my lack of sight or didn't care because no one questioned us as we walked through the District. I heard someone speak up once but not about my sight. It sounded like Eric. And it sounded like he was asking about my hand in Wesley's but Wesley told him off and we moved on.

By the time we got to Marcus's warehouse, the sun had set considerably and it was getting easier for me to see. My vision was starting to clear again so I could see Marcus as we approached. He stood when he saw us and I smiled at him, trying not to look vacant. Marcus stood a full head taller than Wesley and towered over me. His wiry black hair was pulled back in its customary tail. As he rose, I couldn't help being reminded of his injury a few years ago. He spent thirty days in quarantine just like Riggs, only his leg didn't heal correctly so he walks with a limp. He wasn't knocked over the wall like Riggs was though. He jumped. The tug he had around his waist couldn't support his weight and it snapped. A viral laid into his chest and he's worn the scars proudly ever since. Needless to say, he wasn't able to man the wall after that so he was reassigned to the supply warehouse, but he'll always be a damn good shot.

"Ellie, I heard about your ordeal at the cattle gate. How're you feeling?" he asked as he put down the book he had been reading.

"Restless. I'd be back up on the wall tonight if they'd let me," I said, smiling at him; he was getting more defined.

"You mean if you could see anything," Wesley said as he stepped forward and shook Marcus's hand, "Good to see you. Marcus."

Marcus nodded at Wesley in greeting and turned back to me. "What can I help you with?"

"We were hoping you could find her something to cover her eyes with so they can rest before she goes back up the wall tomorrow night," Wesley said, crossing his arms over his chest.

I think Marcus must have grimaced. "Tomorrow night? Isn't that a bit soon?"

"McCreary cleared me for tomorrow night."

"Because you lied to him," Wesley argued.

"Maybe he's trying to get you killed," Marcus suggested and I barked out a laugh.

"I wish everyone was so honest, Marcus," I said and then straightened up. "So you got anything for me?"

"I'm sure I can find you some sunglasses," he said and then turned back toward the opening of the warehouse and motioned us forward.

As we walked down the rows of boxes, things started getting clearer. I began to distinguish the gaps between the boxes and the letters written on them. It was pretty dim in the warehouse and I only realized my eyes had been throbbing when it started to subside in the dark. We stopped in front of a box labeled "sunglasses" and Marcus pulled it down off the shelf and set it on the floor.

"Need a light?" he asked as he unfolded the top of the box.

"I think I'm okay," I said as I knelt down next to the box and started rifling through the sunglasses.

"You're going to want a pair with really dark lenses I think," Wesley said as he knelt down next to Marcus and me.

"How about these?" Marcus asked after a couple minutes of sorting the glasses, as he handed me a pair with rounded silver frames.

I put them on and liked the weight of them. "How do I look?"

"Good, can you see?" Wesley asked.

"Yeah. What do you think, Marcus?" I asked as I turned toward him.

"Aviators are your style," he said with a nod as he started piling the rejected sunglasses back into the box.

"I think so," I said as I stood up. It was even easier to see now in the false night of the sunglasses.

"You're the best, Marcus," Wesley said as he handed him a deck of cards.

"Your lucky deck for a pair of sunglasses? I can't do that to you, man," Marcus said as he pushed the deck back into Wesley's hand. "I'll let you guys have them this time, but don't go telling everyone."

"You sure, Marcus? I'm sure I can muster up something to trade," I said. Just taking the sunglasses didn't seem fair.

He smiled down at me. "Consider them a get well soon gift."

I smiled back at him. "I guess that's fair."

"Are you headed to the mess?" he asked, looking between Wesley and me.

"No," Wesley said, before I could answer. "I think I had better get Ellie home so she can relax."

I rolled my eyes but they must not have been able to see through the sunglasses so I just nodded in agreement. "I'm wiped out."

Wesley glanced at me briefly like he hadn't been expecting me to play along.

"Alright," Marcus said as he hoisted the box up. "Take care of her, Wes, or I'll skin you myself."

Wesley laughed and took my hand, leading me out of the warehouse.

It was full night when we got outside and I was able to see Lilith walking toward her front door. And I knew it was her not just from foreknowledge; I could actually see her. I peeked over the top of the sunglasses and it was a little fuzzier, but I could still see much better than earlier.

"Come on," Wesley said as he tugged me through the houses. Almost everyone was already home. Most of the civilians like to be inside when the lights go on because that's when the virals come out.

As we made our way, I saw the occasional person scurrying down the alley toward their door or a light go on in a house, but it was a fairly uneventful trip to Wesley's place.

"I thought you said we were going home," I said.

"Yeah, my home," Wesley answered with a grin as he opened the front door. His was one of the older houses in the compound so it had some character.

It was a house even before the outbreak so it had a real kitchen and wood floors instead of concrete and brick walls with plaster and wallpaper. The windows had wooden panes and the glass wasn't muddy. The dining room table had a chandelier over it and there was a TV in a corner of the living room that didn't get any channels, but there was a DVD player and a bunch of movies in the cabinet the TV was on. On the wall next to the TV was a small, stone fireplace that always seemed to be burning. There was a bathroom and a small bedroom on the first floor along with the kitchen, living room and dining room. The second story had two more bedrooms and another bathroom that had a real working shower in it. Wesley's family had been here before the outbreak too, but his grandfather was in the army so he had gone to fight the virals and never came back. His grandmother died right after he was born and passed the house down to Wesley's mother. Everyone had whispered about her because she had Wesley and no husband. People thought he might have the same father as Riggs or that maybe Marcus was his father. But Kayla Lamont took that secret to the pyre. She died a couple years ago after she got sick with something the hospital couldn't fix. Wesley's been on his own in this house since.

"Why don't you hang out on the couch? I'll make us something," he said after I walked in the door and he closed it.

I nodded and walked into the living room, removing my jacket in the warmth of the house. I dropped it on a big chair and sat down on the couch, leaning back and stretching.

"You haven't been here in a while," Wesley said and I could hear the question in his voice. He was hurt because of how much I've avoided him since my mother died.

"I'm going to take a shower I think," I said as I stood up and walked toward the stairs. There was no reply and I knew I had hurt his feelings. I wasn't ready to talk about this yet though. Hot water sounded like just what I needed.

I pulled a towel out of the linen cabinet across from the sink and set it on the lid of the toilet next to the shower, before turning the water on and stripping down and throwing my clothes in the hamper. I retrieved Wesley's straight razor from the drawer next to the sink and stepped into the shower. The water was still a little cold and I shivered. It was harder to see in the house than it had been outside. The lights were a little too bright for me so I had left the bathroom lights off. There was enough light coming through the frosted glass window that I wasn't afraid of cutting myself shaving.

I washed my hair and body, shaved and then just stood there, letting the now steaming water wash away all of my stress. I sighed and marveled at how people from the Time Before got to do this every day. It was heaven. Finally the water started to run cold so I turned it off and got out. I dried myself and wrapped up in the towel before venturing out into the master bedroom. I opened the top drawer of the chest-of-drawers and retrieved some of my old pants and a soft shirt. I listened for a moment before deciding it was safe. I threw the clothing on and grabbed the towel before walking downstairs again. I hung the towel in front of the fire to dry and then went to look into the kitchen.

Wesley was sitting at the small dining room table with a plate of potatoes and sausage in front of him.

"It's on the stove," he said without looking up.

I retrieved the food from the kitchen and came out to sit with him. I watched as he ate bite after bite, occasionally taking one myself.

"Thank you," I said, when the silence became too much to bare.

"No problem," he replied and took another bite.

I couldn't stand to see him like this. He seemed so completely slighted and I felt guilty. No, I hadn't been around much lately, but was it really that big a deal? I mean, I had places to be too. And things to do. And he could have talked to anyone else he wanted. Everyone in the District likes him, so he couldn't have been that lonely.

"What wrong?" I finally asked.

"Where have you been?"

"What?" I answered, "I don't know, around."

"Not around here. Not around me," he said as he stabbed a potato with a little more force than necessary.

"So? I see you on the wall. I see you in the mess," I said, stung.

"From a distance. Before a couple days ago, we hadn't spoken in two weeks. Why are you avoiding me?" he asked as he set his fork down roughly.

"I'm not avoiding you."

He scraped his chair backward and stood. "You are. I don't know where you sneak off to, but it's clear you don't want to be found so I stopped looking. I thought after Emma's death, you just needed a little space so I let you have it, but then it just kept getting worse. You stopped staying over and that was fine, but then you stopped coming over at all. And then you stopped seeing me. And then you stopped seeing anyone. And then no one could ever find you, not even at your house. You started taking extra shifts. People are starting to talk about you, you know. They think you've gone crazy. Some people even think you're becoming a viral. They think you're becoming Brother."

I just sat there and stared at him, open-mouthed.

He ran a hand through his hair and leaned on the table. "You don't understand."

"I didn't mean to upset you," I whispered. "I was just trying to—"

"Trying to what?" Wesley asked as he pushed away from the table, his voice caustic, "You left me in the balance, Ellie. You're killing me."

He sounded so broken. I knew he was upset, but I hadn't realized it had affected him this much. He always seemed fine on the wall. I stood and walked over to him, reaching out tentatively for his arm.

He snatched my hand and held it, looking at me, his breathing harsh and a little ragged. "You're killing me, Ellie."

"I'm sorry, Wes," I said and leaned my forehead against his shoulder. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"Worried? I was worried when you stopped staying over. I'm past worry. You hurt me, Ellie. You didn't let me help. That's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it? That's my job. To make sure you're okay. To help you with things. To take care of you," he said as he took me by the shoulders and held me in front of him.

It broke then. The dam I'd built up to keep everything back broke and everything flooded out. I felt my eyes start to water and I blinked the tears back. I hadn't even cried when my mother died. I reached out and wrapped my arms around Wesley's waist, burying my face in his shirt. He stumbled back into the counter with a grunt, having not expected me to fall into him. He sighed and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, resting his chin on my head.

"Shh… It's alright, Ellie," he whispered as he ran a hand through my damp hair, untangling it with his fingers. "It's okay, my Ellie."

He kept whispering to me and stroking my hair until my sobs subsided into hiccups. I pulled my face out of his shirt and rested my head against his chest, still holding onto him for support.

"I'm sorry, Wes," I said between hiccups.

"It's okay, Ellie," he said with a slight chuckle at my hiccups and I felt it reverberate through his chest.

"Could I stay here?" I asked hesitantly. I had hurt him pretty badly after all.

"Of course, Ellie, you're always welcome here. Come on," he said as he pulled away and put a hand on the small of my back and ushered me toward the stairs.

I complied, dragging my feet up the stairs, my exhaustion finally hitting me. By the time I reached the master bedroom, I had all but forgotten my name, I was so tired. I stripped off my pants and crawled under the soft covers, pulling Wesley with me.

"Wait," he said, "I need to shower too."

And he was gone, heading toward the bathroom. I whined after him, not even really able to form words.

"Ugh, really?" he asked and I grumbled at him some more. "Fine."

He changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt and crawled into bed next to me. I cuddled up against his warmth and the world almost instantly fell away.

* * *

**Wesley**

It was strange having her back here; feeling her legs entwined with mine, her hand gripping my shirt. She smelled like soap and her damp hair looked redder than it was, spread out on the worn old pillow. I missed having her here. I hadn't had a decent night's sleep in nearly two weeks after all.

I wrapped my arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She readjusted, but didn't move away, already asleep. I looked over and saw her new aviators sitting on the nightstand. It seemed like her vision was returning fairly well, though I silently prayed for it not to be good enough for the wall the next night. She could use another day off and so could I. I'm sure I could find someone to cover my shift for me. I needed another night with Ellie before things went back to normal. Normal wasn't good enough anymore.

I was tired of the jokes and the teasing, but Ellie insisted that we couldn't be anything more than friends. People talk. It was clearly more, but Ellie believed in secrets and I had to deal with it. Riggs was the worst. He knew about Ellie and me. He did it anyway.

He and Ellie have been friends since she can remember and he can't help but remind me. I was worried that when Ellie hasn't been with me, when she hasn't been on the wall, these past two weeks, she's been with him. Somewhere. Doing something.

It doesn't matter.

I was here the whole time. I was waiting for her to remember that I care. I was waiting for her to need me. Patience is a virtue. Riggs doesn't have patience. Riggs is brash and impulsive and altogether too much like Ellie. Riggs the absentee husband. Poor Lyra. They have a little girl. Riggs and Lyra. Sweet girl, too. She's only four. Riggs should spend more time with her before he gets himself killed.

Don't get me wrong. Being a Shoot isn't the safest job in the District either, but at least I'm not on the ground with the bastards. Except this time.

I had never been so scared. I heard the noise while I was talking to Jeremy at the base of the ladder so we went back up. I was going to shoot, but Brother was just too close to Ellie for me to risk it at the angle I was at so I untied the tug at her station and shot while I was on the way down. He charged me and I nearly pissed myself. I think I was too scared to piss myself though. I was a sitting duck, hanging from the tug and he could've killed me but Jeremy got off a shot at him from the top of the wall and the sun was shortening the shadows from the trees so he bolted. Thank god.

I felt myself starting to drift off. That was probably the earliest I'd fallen asleep since she left. It was nice and warm and Ellie was there and safe in my arms. It was difficult for me to see how she could fight against something that seemed so clear to me, but she always has. Ever since we were kids. She was my best friend and the first person who didn't just treat me like Kayla Lamont's bastard son. Up until I met Ellie, everyone just looked at me and saw the possibility of who my father was. Women looked at me and wondered if their husband was my father. Men looked at me and wondered which one of their buddies was keeping a secret. Kids looked at me and saw what their parents saw, only worse. The adults didn't like me, but they had reasons, and the kids just adopted their parents' prejudices.

But not Ellie. I met Ellie about a year before her father died. She was twelve and louder than any of the other kids. She was bright and clever and had tight red-gold ringlets cut close to her head and eyes the color of pine needles. She was fast and limber and a clear choice for the Shoots. Most kids learned how to shoot their parents rifles or crossbows, but not Ellie. Her mom wanted to teach her how to use a rifle and a six-shoot, but Ellie wanted to use her father's balest. Now, she would swear it was because of its efficiency, but I think it was because there was only one. If there's anything Ellie likes more than efficiency, it is uniqueness.

One of the days when all of the high classes were out in the wind fields during free time, Eric—who was older than me by a year—was teasing me about my mother and everyone was laughing. Ellie was hanging around Riggs, who was the same year as Eric, and she didn't understand why everyone was laughing. It was her first year as a high class and she had never seen me before, but she had known Riggs for years. At first she was laughing, I assumed because everyone else was laughing, but then Eric told one of the other boys to grab me and they did and then Eric was going to try to hit me. Ellie protested, saying that it wasn't funny, that they were going to get everyone in trouble and a few voices echoed her concern. Eric didn't stop and Riggs didn't say anything when Eric took a swing at my face.

Ellie screamed. It was a horrible sound, like a wild animal. She tackled Eric to the ground and told him to stop. Eric grappled with her and finally pinned her on the ground, laughing about how little she was. That was fine, until she punched him in the jaws, cracking one of his teeth and splitting her knuckles. I guess Eric must have tried to hit her but Riggs pulled him off. I couldn't tell because one of the other guys hit me in the stomach and I nearly lost my lunch. Jeremy came to my rescue first. I think he hit the guy who was holding me because I fell over and I remembered seeing him waling on the guy before Ellie ran up to me, her peach colored curls bobbing around her face as she knelt down next to me, asking if I was alright.

A teacher broke up the fight then and we all got in trouble. From that point on Ellie became my best friend. Jeremy took a little more time and for a year after that incident, he only hung around me when Ellie was there. After Riggs and Eric went off to training, Jeremy started hanging around with Ellie and me most of the time and even just me sometimes. Jeremy had been worried about Ellie too. That's what we were talking about when Ellie took on Brother.

I sighed. Now that we were older, I could be there for Ellie. She had been the turning point for me and I always wanted to be there for her. The District respected me now, because Ellie gave me the confidence to make something of myself. Now that they were starting to doubt her, I knew I had to be the one to prove them wrong. I had to help her turn it around. Maybe it would be best if she was back on the wall tomorrow, just to show people that she hadn't missed a step. And doubtless that's what she wanted too. So I hoped that she was well enough tomorrow to take the wall.

* * *

**Riggs**

There was no sign of Brother at Ellie's post that night or at anyone else's. There hadn't been the night before either. Jeremy walked with me up to the wall, asking how I thought Ellie was and whether she seemed like herself. I told him yes even though I was worried about her.

I was distracted the whole night. Dangerous.

But no virals ran the wall. None were even sighted, though I could swear I heard them rustling in the trees. It was strange to be back on the wall. It had been four years since I was last up there. Lyra hated that I had quit the wall to become a Burn, but it was what was necessary for the District. I only found out after I agreed to be a Burn that she was pregnant. I think she liked to think that if I had known, I wouldn't have joined. But I think she also knew that I would have said yes either way and that's why she didn't tell me until after.

Eight months later, we named her Mia after Lyra's grandmother who was a founder of the District. She was born early and small and weak. She was nervous all of the time, just like her mother. And just like her mother, she had mousy brown hair, straight as a board, and big, round, deep blue eyes. Mia might have simply sprung forth from Lyra as far as I am concerned. She never had a part of me to her. Mia Thompson might as well have been Mia Reid. My blood was in her somewhere though. Sometimes I caught glimpses of her uncle in her smile or her laugh. Jeremy was always good with her. Jeremy is a child at heart and loved to play with Mia from the moment she was born. It's a miracle Mia recognized me as her father at all, with how little I was ever around. I love her, I really do, but she never really felt mine. She was always Lyra's. She's a Reid, not a Thompson. She started in the Little Class at the school this last autumn and I've seen her even less since then.

I met Ellie when she was a Little. She was bright and smart, only three, but already a power in her own right. A tiny sun that people gravitated to. I was seven and I was pulled in right from the start. She always seemed older than she was to me. I remember being startled when I became a High Class, I was startled when she didn't at the same time. Since then we've been friends. She's magnetic. She's the kind of person you know is important. You know that because everyone knows it. Because everyone sees it. I think that was why McCreary always disliked her. He made himself a leader. He built himself. She was born one. She never had to try. I'm like McCreary. I had to build myself into what I am; I had to try.

I walked down the alley to the house, only half noticing the other people starting to move around the District. I looked up at the dark windows of Wesley's house and wondered if Ellie was there or if she had wandered off again. Their relationship was a classic with guys like Wesley. He's a best friend, a shoulder to cry on, an older-brother figure, but not a romantic partner. He set himself up for disappointment years ago when Ellie stayed with him one night when she had argued with her mother and they slept together. The next morning when Ellie freaked out, Wesley let her go with the assurance that it wouldn't change anything. Ellie was confused. I know because she told me.

I unlocked the front door of my house and took a deep breath before opening it. Mia rounded the corner just as I was closing the door. She looked at me with this sort of naïve accusation and I sighed. She put her hands on her hips, just like her mother did.

"Mama's been worried," she said, her tiny voice indignant.

"I know," I said as I walked in past her, "I know."

* * *

**I hope you're starting to get a feel for the characters and their backstories. I like my characters with a lot of history, just like Mr. Cronin. Haha, please review. It'd be much appreciated.**

**P.S. In case you were wondering, the girl in the cover photo is how I imagined Ellie to look like.**


End file.
